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In “Snowpiercer,” the lone survivors of a post-apocalyptic world-freeze are confined to one train that circles the globe on a nonstop hell ride, depending on where you’re sitting.

For 17 years, front and rear passengers have been segregated. Folks at the rear are fed maroon-ish, gelatinous protein blocks, they’re crammed into living spaces on par with “Amistad” and they’re brutalized by guards at the tiniest sign of defiance.

Within the first five minutes, an elderly woman eats the butt of a rifle when her hubby refuses to play violinist for front passengers unless she comes with.

He has an informant who plants tips in protein blocks. He counts the men guarding the train gates and clocks the number of seconds all doors are open at once. And the crux of his plan: Get to the engine and kill Wilford, the train’s “leader,” aka a conductor with a god complex.

“All past revolutions have failed because they couldn’t take the engine,” Curtis says, and I was in.

Chris Evans (center) and Jamie Bell (left) and star in “Snowpiercer,” a sci-fi thriller available on Amazon Prime, iTunes and Netflix Instant. netflix.com

Superb pacing as the throwdown clocks in at less than 30 minutes, and I was screaming and cheering from my couch. Curtis and friends battle their way through each train subsection: the kitchen, the water car and beyond. And with each section cleared, Curtis was like Mario to Wilford’s King Koopa.

What hooked me the most was the subtext and mythology of this story.

In one scene, Curtis and gang are in a barbarian-style battle with axes. Blood spatter and slow-mo, then a horn sounds and a strange ceasefire. All look out the window, note the landmark and the guards start counting down from 10 in a weird celebration.

My insides screamed: “Kick some A–!” but nothing.

Through just enough dialogue it’s revealed the landmark notes a full year of survival. And as the train rips through ice caps on the tracks, the good guys and the bad guys are thrown around the same car. A lot different than an LOTR battle royale because regardless the side they’re fighting on, all are on the same playing field. All are apocalypse survivors, and all could die if the train derails.

This moment was like nothing I’d ever seen or read or experienced in pop culture. My mind was blown.

And “Snowpiercer” continued to do this. It’s dense and fully loaded, but that works to its glorious advantage. And screenwriter/director Bong Joo-Ho works the graphic novel this was based off succinctly and expertly. (I’m getting into gush mode.)

And while “Snowpiercer” is harsh at times, Joo-Ho works in just the right amount of comic relief.

The Curtis crew swoons over the smell of second hand smoke, when cigs had been extinct for a decade. Tilda Swinton as a commissioner for the front delivers quirky bits, like removing her dentures during a verbal face-off with Curtis, and grotesque throat-clearing and nose-crinkling as she speaks on soon-to-be unleashed mayhem.

My only hang-up with this is some of the effects were executed a bit poorly.

When we see what the protein blocks are made of, the computerized imagery looks pretty elementary along with outer shots of the train trudging on the tracks. There’s also a slow-mo snowflake moment, but you’ll hafta watch it to see.

But this all didn’t deter. “Snowpiercer” culminates with a jarring convo between Curtis and Wilford, and it ends with the perfect last shot on-screen.

And performances were on.

Chris Evans may be the quintessential superhero, even in ratty garb, and he gets a chance to wax dramatic and broken, and bravo. Jamie Bell is the perfect spunky sidekick with a Scottish (?) accent, and I felt protective over him like a little brother. And the actor who plays Wilford is dashing and wonderfully apathetic and pragmatic. (IMDB it, or better yet, watch it.)

There are cult-like happenings, spot-on suspense and no love triangles like other dystopian movies of today. I was glued to my screen and rewinding parts.

In “Rosewater,” Maziar (Gael Garcia Bernal) wakes up to some shadowy figures in his bedroom. They’re Iranian investigators and they sift through his personal items. Soon after, Maziar is hauled away, and director Jon Stewart gives some context.

It’s July 2009, Maziar flies to his home country to cover the Iranian election for Newsweek. As he walks the streets, Stewart uses storefronts and buildings as a palette for images and footage of Maziar’s sister Maryam (Golshifteh Farahani) and his father Akbar (Haluk Bilginer), who both served time in Iranian prisons.

Maziar chases pre-election stories and does an interview with a satirical, political show (in real life, it was “The Daily Show”). He befriends cabbie Davood (Dimitri Leonidas) who shows him the people’s choice for a new leader.

When said choice loses, the people of Iran revolt. Maziar films a shooting by the government’s hand. He sends it to his journalism buds, and we’re up to speed on the shadowy figures and the whole arrest thing.

In prison, specialist Rosewater (Kim Bodnia) spends forever with Maziar, and Stewart shows this in a montage of interrogation. Clips of Rosewater at different locations in the cell, and varied levels of light shining through a window mark the passage of time. I was thankful I didn’t have to sit through the ultra-bad torture, which Stewart shows in quick hits.

“You must not just take his blood. You must take his hope” are Rosewater’s orders, but I never really felt like this film gave me the hard-nosed despair this captive must’ve felt. Think “Shawshank Redemption” or “Hunger,” but I don’t think a heart-rocking jailbird tale was Stewart’s intention with “Rosewater” — a little to its detriment.

I could’ve used a focused look at Maziar’s insanity in solitary confinement. He hallucinates talking to his deceased father. He fantasizes about slitting his wrist, but there was little else to illustrate his hopelessness.

And that’s no fault of Gael Garcia Bernal, who’s starred in “The Motorcycle Diaries,” “Amores Perros” and “The Science of Sleep.” He can bring the pain through tears, and oh, what a debonair smile, but I think what was lacking here was the screenplay.

Directorially, Stewart did make some sweet choices. It was like his “Rosewater” aimed to show an Iran that isn’t portrayed in the media, and at that, I think he succeeded.

Stewart’s ‘Rosewater’ catches a real-life war of wills in an Iranian prison. TNS

He shows Iranian men and women out in droves to vote. He zooms in on voters verifying ballots with their fingerprints. In another scene, Davood is praying on his knees, as Maziar sifts through his phone a couple of feet away. Stewart goes from mid-shot to wide to show they’re on the side of the highway.

A couple of technical things this reviewer wasn’t into: shaky, almost-’80s looking shots of the street they’re driving past and a scene flooded with hashtags. He also mixes real footage with his own, and the transition between the two was bumpy.

On the plus side, there’s some perfectly executed humor among the dark. In one scene, Rosewater demands Maziar tell his wife to stop talking to the media. He throws him around the cell. Rosewater’s all up in his face and says “Call and tell her to stop talking sh— …. and you have to dial 9 to get out.”

I can read Maziar’s book “Then They Came for Me” for the despair and suspense. For Stewart’s retelling, he may have been right on the mark making a film with respect, responsibility and grace for this journalist’s story. And it was like he was making an amends for his time anchoring a political satire and, potentially, for any perceived role his show played in Maziar’s arrest.

While “Rosewater” was a bit diluted for my taste, it was sweet seeing Stewart’s debut as a director, but this one may be better suited for the small screen.

Jason, Jaws and Michael Myers. None of them held a candle to the man who made me fear water beds: Freddy Krueger, and “Never Sleep Again: The Elm Street Legacy” digs into the history and fandom through interviews with franchise creator Wes Craven, Freddy’s main adversary, Nancy (Heather Langenkamp), Freddy himself, Robert Englund, and every. single. extra and B actor involved in the making of all seven Elm Street movies.

“Never Sleep Again” begins with a pretty sweet claymation sequence with a lot of “Elm Street” staples: Tina in a body bag, Freddy bursting through a torso, and I admit I was pretty jazzed for what was next.

What struck and hooked me first: Wes Craven’s insights into the creation of the horror rock star of the ’80s and beyond. Craven shares about a sinister man who creeped him out as a kid — who would later inspire Freddy Krueger; how he chose the green and red sweater based on research of a color mix that causes the most visual distress; and the inspiration for the deadly bladed glove.

Background on casting Freddy, how Robert Englund was replaced for a hot second for “Nightmare” 2 and listening to his protectiveness of the character was irresistible. And I gobbled up interviews with special effects guys on each quintessential scene in “Nightmare on Elm Street.” Craven shares that the water bed scene that so traumatized me as a kid, also jacked with the cast and crew.

BEFORE: Johnny doesn’t know what’s gonna happen.

AFTER: The scene from “Nightmare on Elm Street” that kept me off of waterbeds for a good chunk of my life.

They used a rotating room, and they had to do it in one shot. When the blood squirts out of the water bed, sparks literally flew on set, cast and crew members were covered in blood — and they couldn’t stop shooting. Everything was pretty indie, start-up with low funds, so all they had was one take.

Anyone who grew up with “Nightmare” can appreciate the start of “Never Sleep Again,” but there’s sooo much info that it gets a bit exhaustive.

Clocking in at a whopping four hours, this documentary goes through each sequel with interviews with all leading actors from “Nightmares” 1 through 7, and I was really surprised that studio New Line Cinema was built upon the Freddy empire.

If you’re not planning on venturing into this odyssey, here are some high points:

Wes Craven was only involved in bookending the franchise — which will celebrate its 30th birthday Nov. 9 — with “Nightmare” (1984) and “New Nightmare” (1994). New Line commissioned a rag-tag group of newcomer directors and writers — including one director who was basically homeless — to continue the legacy through six more films. While I thought this insane — especially after listening to how meticulous Craven was in every facet of the first film — “Never Sleep Again” shows this tactic worked the franchise for a younger, MTV audience.

Some cons about this: A decent amount of time is spent name-dropping Johnny Depp, Patricia Arquette and “LOTR” director Peter Jackson as having their start in the “Nightmare” franchise, but, their commentary is missing. And I swear directors Daniel Farrands and Andrew Kasch just let the camera roll, and I found out what people ate and spilled on their make-up during filming.
Pretty over-the-top.

The man behind the pizza face: Robert Englund donned the Freddy persona for almost 30 years. netflix.com

While a lot of the details were fascinating, “Never Sleep Again” could’ve easily been edited down to less than two hours, and on a personal note, only included Craven, Heather Langenkamp and Robert Englund.

In the end, “Never Sleep Again” is a very long love letter to Freddy fans, and if you’re one of them, it’s probably worth it.

Joan Rivers died Thursday after being on life support for several days.

Her documentary, “Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work,” has been burning a hole in my Netflix queue for months, and now was the best time to check it out.

It begins with a rarely-seen scene: Joan’s applying make-up to her bare face — a tell it’s about to get personal.

Writer/director Ricki Stern shows Joan’s newspaper headlines from the ’60s and clips of her on “The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson.” Watching her put Johnny in stitches was impressive, and I never knew how edgy she was for her time until I watched this.

Joan Rivers looks through her insanely packed schedule in the documentary “Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work.” Rivers died Thursday at age 81. netflix.com

Joan says Jack Lemmon walked out of the audience when she talked about how casting-couch friendly she was back in the day.

“I remember I had a joke about abortions when you weren’t supposed to even say the word on television,” she says.

Cut to the clip of her in a mini-beehive: “I have a friend who just got married, the woman is 32 years old. She had 14 appendectomies, if you know what I’m telling you.”

She says her agent told her she’s going places a woman shouldn’t go, and cue her everlasting defiance to not be silenced.

Director Stern lays this against her contemporary standup, and the only difference is she’d gotten raunchier. But that’s pretty on par with today’s comedians. And Joan’s colleagues noticed.

In this doc, Kathy Griffin oozes adoration for her.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for Joan. Much in the way that she acknowledges that Phyllis Diller paved the way for her and before her was Moms Mably. There’s a handful of women in modern history that have done this.”

Rivers doing standup in “A Piece of Work.” netflix.com

More than Joan’s place in history, “A Piece of Work” looks at her plastic surgery, her workaholic-ism and her parenting a child, Melissa Rivers, who’s set on stardom. It even looks at Joan’s falling out with Johnny Carson after she left “The Tonight Show” for her own primetime slot on Fox, and the suicide of her husband, Edgar Rosenberg after her show was canceled.

“He didn’t have Joan’s strength,” said her long-time agent Billy Sammeth. And her ability to persevere is the ongoing theme in this film.

At the time this was released, she was 75. The doc shows her working several shows a day across the U.S., headlining a play in Europe, running her own jewelry line, promo-ing it on QVC, and delivering Thanksgiving meals with her grandson to disabled New Yorkers.

She made 75 look good, and I doubted I could’ve kept up with her even before she died.

Joan Rivers sifts through old jokes, which she files away on index cards in her apartment. netflix.com

Some of my faves from this doc: Seeing her lavish apartment of which she says, “This is how Marie Antoinette woulda lived if she had money.” Seeing her Dewey Decimal filing system for her jokes and watching her write comedy sparknotes on poster board for a live show.

As a documentary though, this did have some weird spots.

Not really a spoiler, but, Joan alludes to and eventually fires her agent. This “plot point” unravels a bit like this was a huge reveal, when I was barely invested in him. And it would’ve been cool to have more interviews with contemporary comedians or even a sort of entertainment historian or professor for context into what Joan did for pop culture. “A Piece of Work” could’ve dug deeper into Joan’s plastic surgery and shown more or longer clips of her standup — but that may speak to I just wanted to see more of her.

The absolute pros of “A Piece of Work” are seeing the vulnerabilities of this staple in the entertainment biz. Watching brash Joan on-stage question her jokes with her close assistants off-stage gave her a poignant humanity that is rarely seen.

“All standups are innately insecure,” says Melissa Rivers.

“Growing up with comedians, they were all very damaged. They need reassurance, it’s all a cover,” she says. And “A Piece of Work” uncovers a lot of Joan.

Despite some of the weirder moments, this is so worth watching, if for anything, to see a softer side of Joan Rivers outshine her even louder stage presence.

Lumpy (Taylor Labine) spills tequila on the bride and he voms in the ladies bathroom. He’s the life of the party until he’s sent to his hotel room early.

That night, he dies in a drunken run-in with a cactus, and newlyweds Scott (Justin Long) and Kristin (Jess Weixler) postpone their honeymoon for funeral duty. To Kristin’s chagrin, they head on a scavenger hunt through Minnesota to deliver the bad news to the mysterious friend in Lumpy’s cellphone named Ramsey.

The two uncover a whole bunch of info that Scott didn’t know: Lumpy withdrew from law school on a whim and he was fired from a diner for embezzlement.

Sounds like a PG episode of “Law and Order” — following a dead man’s life — but this works for “Best Man Down” because I was dying to know what Lumpy was doing with a teen.

Said teenager is Ramsey, a 15-year-old with a sketchy home life: Her mom’s into a phone psychics and mom’s gun-toting boyfriend is into meth. It’s a ticking time bomb at Ramsey’s house, and divorce seems inevitable for the newlyweds. But, writer/director Tom Koland mixes the comedy with the heavy pretty on par.

In one scene, Kristin and Scott barge in on Lumpy’s former employer, and he’s playing with himself. They hear about Lumpy’s huge theft, and feelings are pretty low. Cue an almost-handshake and a “don’t touch it joke,” but I was grateful for the light reprieve.

I’ve seen directors struggle with flowing between drama and comedy while swapping between storylines, but director Koland makes it work.

Justin Long does a stellar job with the drama. Near the end, he sheds some tears that made my eyes perspire. But the best performance is Addison Timlin as Ramsey. When she hears about Lumpy’s death, her nonchalant expression was light and slight. So good, she had me fooled. When she’s finally left alone, her exterior doesn’t melt as much as it crumbles slightly, bit by bit. I was way impressed.

BEST OF FRIENDS: Taylor Labine as Lumpy and Addison Timlin as Ramsey in “Best Man Down.”

Jess Weixler is just alright as Kristin. Switching from easily annoying to enlightened felt like a rocky transition for her, but it didn’t distract from the film.

Props to director Koland and the cinematography. Overall, great camera placement and Lumpy’s death scene made me want to vom from the shaky, real-to-life view of a violent hangover.

And what really impressed me was the beautifully shot cinematography of Minneapolis. Ramsey is walking the street, and shots of the city are panoramic and vivid, which is a sweet contrast to dense, tight-shots in Ramsey’s rural town. She looks like she could be swallowed up in this scene — by the city and her solitude. Loved it.

“Best Man Down” was released at the Twin Cities Film Festival in 2012, and Minnesota is heavily sprinkled in the dialogue along with a shot of the Blue Ox Motel.

In “Bojack Horseman,” Bojack’s a 12,000-pound, boozing, Cosby-sweater-wearing ’90s sitcom has-been. He’s got a squatter for a roommate, a cat for an agent and a Labrador for an arch nemesis.

Some characters are anthropomorphic and some are human in this new Netflix Original series, and the lead is a horse, man.

Will Arnett voices Bojack, and his delivery makes this character like voice actor H. Jon Benjamin’s makes Archer in “Archer.”Bojack’s battling sociopathy, ego and his memoir, and when his agent Princess Carolyn (Amy Sedaris) and his publisher (Patton Oswalt) urge him to hook up with a ghost writer — after a couple of panic attacks and ego trips, he concedes.

Will Arnett and Aaron Paul voice characters in the new Netflix Original Series “Bojack Horseman.” netflix.com

As the series progresses, “Bojack” unwinds a bit like an afterschool special on crack, but not as intense as an “It’s Always Sunny” episode.

He meets the now-adult co-star from his ’90s TV show, Sarah Lynn (Kristen Schaal). She’s hopped up on drugs and spiraling downward. Cue a blind-leading-the-blind scenario — with flair.

In one scene, Bojack gives Sarah his TV Guide award. He says “It’s the most prestigious award I ever won. I always thought if I ever had kids of my own, I’d give them it, and I want you to have it.”
She thanks him.

He sighs, starts humming a tune and waves his hand slowly in front of his face.
When she asks what he’s doing, Bojack shushes her — hand still waving — and says “Just let the credits roll.”

This horse has problems, and I’m laughing out loud and rewinding.
Watching the pilot, I was way curious why creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg mixes animals and humans, but after a bit, I saw what it added.

Princess Carolyn drinks cat-nip tea and reads “BIRDO” mags. Bojack’s publisher is a penguin, and at the publishing house, employees belly-dive across the lobby — like penguins. It add a bit of levity, and it works.

Yeah, Bojack’s a cartoon, but it could be kinda depressing — post-reality shows like “Celebrity Rehab” — watching an aging has-been circle the drain. But having the main character as a drunken “Mister Ed” makes this show’s premise easier to take in.

And it’s funny.

In another scene, Bojack’s in the hospital, and he’s watching videos of his old TV show.

“Do you just take those DVDs with you everywhere you go?” his roomie asks.
“Linus walked around with a blanket. No one gave him s—t for it,” Bojack says, and I’m in till the end.

Will Arnett’s voice will forever brighten my soul post-“Arrested Development.” Supporting voices bring it home with Sedaris, Oswalt and even a cameo by Stephen Colbert. Bojack’s roomie is voiced by Aaron Paul — who I can’t see as anyone but Jesse from “Breaking Bad” — and Alison Brie is Bojack’s ghost writer. I’m pretty bored with their storylines, but, with so much comedic star power, they’re doing their jobs supporting the glory.

In the end, “Bojack” has a lot of biting humor and some lags, but it’s worth checking out — after the kids are asleep.

Imagine living in a home roughly the size of a big broom closet.
That’s what documentary filmmakers Chris Smith and Merete Mueller dive into as they build a 130-square-foot, fully functional home in “Tiny: A Story About Living Small.”
At the helm of the construction is Chris, who’s set on a Thoreau-esque “fleeing to the woods” experience.
He opts to build a transportable home on wheels that he plans to move into the wilderness, and the hook of this is watching him construct it with dwindling funds and a two-month window. The more piercing question is: why a small home? And “Tiny” digs deep into the roots of this living smaller movement.

Filmmakers Christopher Smith and Merete Mueller in front of the tiny home they built from scratch in the Colorado mountains, as part of their documentary “Tiny: A Story About Living Small.” tiny-themovie.com

“The primary asset that comes with a small house is freedom,” says Jay Shafer, Founder of Tumbleweed Tiny House Company.
“The world gets a lot bigger when you’re living small because I can afford to do a lot more things now in both cash and time cause the whole world is now my living room,” he says. And he actually lives the life, sharing a 500-square-foot home with his wife and two kids.
Through cuts of Chris tinkering with saws and power drills, “Tiny” takes us all around the country to others who live in very, very small spaces.

Ann Holley and Darren Macca, two of the characters in TINY: A Story About Living Small in their Tiny House in Longmont, Colorado. tiny-themovie.com

Darren Macca and Ann Holley, of Longmont, Calif., share a 125-square-foot pad which was berthed from the Great Recession. Footage of their bedroom, living room / dining room / entertaining room / office — and “Was that their bathroom?” — was fascinating.
I spent the bulk of this movie with my jaw dropped, naturally wondering how I would “survive” in a tiny home.
“I think we’re encouraged as a culture to consume more, to have more, to feel better about ourselves when we have more and to feel good when you go out and buy things,” says Holley. “We are not encouraged to think about the whole cycle of what that means. So, this house kind of allows us to interrupt that cycle.”
With that, I was way into this film.
Watching how these itty bitty, green structures have blown up since the late ‘90s to today kept me glued to the tube. Tiny House blogger Kent Griswold says he averages 10,000 to 15,000 unique visitors a day. I learned it’s illegal to live too small in some areas, and because of that, it’s difficult to count the number of TinyHousers.
Many interviewees attribute their move to saving money, different life choices and contributing to a safer environment with less waste.
Small houses are “less to heat, less to furnish, less to maintain, less to pay for, no mortgage in certain cases, so all around, you’re kinda beating the system,” says micro-architect Derek Diedricksen.

The interior of the 130-square foot Tiny House built by Christopher Smith and Merete Mueller. tiny-themovie.com

“Tiny” feels more like a side-show act than propaganda, and at the end, I was ready to run off and join the circus.
Though, there were some turns in this film that felt contrived.
The whole two-month deadline thing — when viewers are told a tiny home can take a year to two years to build — felt a bit forced. Chris also hams up his lack of experience, blueprint and funds. Then in the middle of “Tiny,” Merete — Chris’ better half, says she’s NYC-bound.

It felt like unnecessary dram, when this doc’s subject packs all the punch.
That aside, “Tiny” works as a DIYers dreams with clips of Chris working electrical wiring and sowing curtains from YouTube videos, even I was convinced at the end of this that I could Superman some amazing stuff, maybe even a house.
It’s so worth a watch.

If you’re like me, you want to bask in Robin Williams’ movies more than ever now that he’s gone. Here are some films you can catch on streaming for the mourning mood that tickles your fancy.

“Popeye” 1980Available: Netflix Instant

Williams plays spinach addict, Popeye, alongside Shelley Duvall’s Olive Oyl. They bump elbows with Bluto (Paul L. Smith), and if my 11-year-old memory’s correct, there was no better actor to embody this longtime cartoon hero. Though it’s way weird to see Williams with blonde hair, this one’ll take ya back to his more youthful days.

Rating: PG

Time: 1:54

“Dead Poets Society” 1989Available: Amazon Prime

I know what “yop” is because of this movie. Williams is a forward-thinking professor at a stuffy prep school. More than Shakespeare and Walt Whitman, he teaches the boys how to thinks outside the box. I imagine this role is frequently quoted and referenced in tight-knit teacher circles, and this movie made me ugly-cry in my sophomore English class. If you haven’t seen this, what are you waiting for? It co-stars Ethan Hawke and Robert Sean Leonard.

Rating: PG

Time: 2:08

O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN: Robin Williams in “Dead Poets Society.”

“Awakenings” 1990Available: Amazon Prime

Dr. Malcolm Sayer (Williams) is a genius physician who stumbles across a “cure” for catatonic patients — give them doses of happy juice — or a form of dopamine. Jack (Robert De Niro) is the guinea pig/star patient who goes from a vegetable to a man who walks, talks and crushes on another patient. Between Williams and De Niro, both sets of acting chops are astounding. And bonus: It’s based on the memoir of neurologist Oliver Sacks.

Rating: PG-13

Time: 2:01

“The Fisher King” 1991Available: Netflix Instant

This one might be a no-no. Parry (Williams) is a mentally troubled homeless man, who pairs with a former deejay Jack (Jeff Bridges). They form an unlikely friendship when Parry saves Jack after a run-in with some violent thugs. It turns out that Parry’s lack of a living sitch is inadvertently Jack’s fault. This was one of the first movies that I watched Williams do drama. Now, that he’s gone, you’ll cry from his performance, and it won’t be cute.

Rating: R for language and violence

Time: 2:17

Williams as Peter Pan in “Hook.”

“Hook” 1991Available: Netflix Instant

Peter Pan (Williams) returns to Neverland after Captain Hook (Dustin Hoffman) kidnaps his children. Williams was made for this role, and watching him go from stuffy father figure to embracing who he really is moving. This one might be hard to watch, too.

Rating: PG

Time: 2:24

“Mrs. Doubtfire” 1993Available: Amazon Prime

Williams dresses as an elderly nanny to snag more time with his kids after a divorce. And drag never looked more endearing. Watching this decades after I fell in love with it, “Mrs. Doubtfire” gave Williams another platform to shine, in his seamless, back-to-back impressions. Some would argue this was him at his peak. I’d say that this is when he further blew up.

Two kids play a magical board game and a hell of jungle-like proportions breaks loose. We’re talking boa constrictors, elephants and an off-his-rocker hunter are in it to conquer and destroy. Williams plays father to the two rascals who threatened the world’s existence. This was a huge deal when I was a preteen, and for you youngins, without this film, there’d be no “Zathura.”

Rating: PG

Time: 1:44

“Birdcage” 1996Available: Amazon Prime, Netflix Instant

In “Birdcage,” Williams is a drag club owner/gay man who plays it straight to meet his son’s fiancee’s uber conservative parents. It co-stars Nathan Lane, Gene Hackman and Dianne Wiest. This is a Mike Nichols joint (“The Graduate, “Charlie Wilson’s War”), and a bunch of songs were written by Broadway legend Stephen Sondheim. This is sure to make you smile through some tears of mourning.

Rating: R for language

Time: 1:57

ONE HOUR’S ALL HE NEEDS…TO GET CREEPY: Williams as Sy in “One Hour Photo.” I like to this of this movie as his Hitchcockian tranzish into suspense.

“One Hour Photo” 2002Available: Amazon Prime

Williams waxes creepy in this thriller about a lonely film processor (remember that?) who lives through the images and lives of his customers. It gets really trippy when Sy (Williams) becomes obsessed and fantasizes about the Yorkins. Haven’t seen this one in about a decade, and at that age, I hated it cause it was too outside Williams’ regular roles. But now, that’s exactly what makes this pick noteworthy.

Rating: R for sexual content and language

Time: 1:36

“World’s Greatest Dad” 2009Available: Netflix Instant

Williams plays Lance, a failed author whose son dies in an embarrassing accident. Lance covers the shame with a suicide setup and his son’s penned farewell makes him a posthumous hit. Sounds a bit like “Heathers,” and Lance is a less cray version of Christian Slater / Winona Ryder. Added bonus: It’s written and directed by Bobcat Goldthwait.

Rating: R for language, crude and sexual content, some drug use and disturbing images

Time: 1:39

Also available on Amazon Prime and Netflix Instant: “Patch Adams” and “Jack.” Where’s “Good Will Hunting”? As as of Tuesday afternoon, neither streaming services offered it.

Find out how Jimi Hendrix catapulted into the music scene in “Hear My Train A Comin,” which documents this megastar’s career in the late ’60s through interviews with his father, Paul McCartney and more.

This film looks at his early life, his influences — Chuck Barry and Robert Johnson — and his very first guitar that cost $5.

“Every spare time he had, he’d be working on that guitar,” said Jimi’s dad, Al Hendrix. “So when he got good on that, I went and got him an electric guitar.”

Cut to footage of Jimi ripping up “Johnny B. Goode” juxtaposed with clips of his soft-spoken, velvety voice in interviews.

“He was two different characters. When he was playing he was super confident, he was in total control, his focus was immaculate, but when he wasn’t playing he was desperately insecure,” says Linda Klein, one of his long-time friends. And the change from rock god on stage to gentle Jimi off stage reveals a comforting humanity in this film.

Jimi Hendrix ripping it up in “Hear My Train A Comin.'”

My fave and the most mind-boggling footage in “Hear My Train A Comin ” is of the first time he played in England. The crowd didn’t know what to expect, and here’s this African American man leading a band of Brits.

“You can say the stars were aligned, I would actually say he had everything he needed. He showed up, and he didn’t waste a single bit of it,” says David Fricke, of Rolling Stone Magazine.

Footage of Jimi ripping it up, flipping his tongue and making air love to a ginormous speaker was simultaneously fascinating and blush-worthy. Shots to female audience members show their utter intrigue, and one woman who was in the arena that night says she was way grossed out.

“It wasn’t the sexuality of the show that appalled me, it was what he did to his instrument.”

And if you haven’t seen this clip before, you’re in for a mesmerizing treat.

Hendrix making flame love to his burning guitar in 1967 in Monterey, Calif.

“Here, he was throwing lighter fluid on his guitar and setting it on fire, and I had never seen anything like this in my life,” she said.

Watching it, I couldn’t tell if the whole fiery guitar thing was a gesture of anarchy mixed with devotion or just plain rock n roll, but I knew I wanted more. Modern musician Dweezil Zappa said “Before that day, there was nothing like that that had ever happened in the world.” And I’m pretty sure any guitar torching would be lacking compared to Jimi’s.

This performance rocked England’s socks off, and this film shows that what followed was a huge following by the Rolling Stones and the Beatles — John Lennon tipped a promoter off to Jimi.

And Paul McCartney says of Jimi opening a concert with “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band” the week it was released: “For me, that is one of my proud moments, that someone that I loved as much as that, that someone who was destined to be one of the greats, would open with one of our songs.” (Totally different world of music.)

“Hear My Train A Comin ” covers most of the goods, Jimi’s changes in musical tastes, his high concert demand because he was too intense for a lot of TV shows and commentary on his stage showmanship.

But “Hear My Train” kinda skirts over some key points like his drug use and his accidental death by sleeping pills.

Chalk that up to I wanted to see more, and this doc will leave you wanting. More footage, more music, more Jimi.

In “Last Love,” Matthew (Michael Caine) is an English widower living in France. He begrudgingly rises each morning, he resists learning the language and his suicide attempts are sullied by his housekeeper.

Walking through Paris, he imagines holding his wife’s hand and he has conversations with her on a park bench. There’s some poignancy to his heartache, but there’s potential for this to get old real quick.

Enter Pauline (Clemence Poesy).

She’s the fairy who flies to his aid when he trips on the bus. She walks him home, and at that kind encounter, Matthew opens his living room shutters to a breathtaking view.

On their third or so meeting, Matthew encourages Pauline to consider university and a hop skip and a jump later, they’re canoeing and waxing philosophical about life.

I couldn’t tell if their connection was sexual, familial or out of mutual loneliness, and I think that’s what writer/director Sandra Nettelbeck was going for. And the question seems to remain unanswered until the very end.

Performances were pretty lackluster. Michael Caine feels tired in this film, and it’s hard to figure if that’s part of the performance or if he’s phoning it in. He’s dropped his delicious Cockney accent and sounds like a muddled cowboy.

THERE’S A SCULLY: Justin Kirk and Gillian Anderson in “Last Love.”

Clemence Poesy as Pauline is airy, blonde and light. Her doe-eyed levity is almost too aware of itself, and while we’re given a glimpse of character depth during a hangover, she’s pretty one-dimensionally angelic. Justin Kirk (“Weeds” and “Angels in America”) brings a third heat as Matthew’s son, but it’s pretty lukewarm, unfortunately. He does the furrowed brow look a bit often and never really has the chance to unleash, but I’ll chalk that up to the screenplay.

Writer/director Nettelbeck has a decent list of films under her belt — “Mostly Martha” and American version, “No Reservations” — but “Last Love” shows she may lack the tools to mix comedy with deep, depressive drama. There were a couple of cringe-worthy, post-suicide music selections that really didn’t jive, and these characters weren’t given much space to shine.

In a pinnacle scene, Matthew and Miles (Kirk) are finally grappling some deep-seated family issues, and I was raring for my guys to shine. In the middle of it, Nettelbeck cuts to Pauline wandering around the countryside. When we’re brought back to Matt and Miles, they’re past the meat of it and, as a viewer, I felt severely ripped off.

“Last Love” was based off of novel “Mr. Morgan’s Last Love” by Francoise Dorner, and that had to have been the better medium. This film takes the complexities of mourning, death and redemption and whittles it down to size.